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"'Sarè,' said she, 'where is your son?'

"'My child?' replied the old man; 'I have not see him the whole of this long day.'

"'Ibrahim Velagic, Dizdar of Stermizza, where is Hussein, the standard-bearer?'

"'How am I to know? Am I his keeper?'

"'Sarè,' continued the young girl, 'when, after the fight of Ostrovizza, my father had promised me as the bride of the warrior who would bring him the head of the brave Christian knight Jancovic Stoyan, or those of three hundred of our foes, Hussein, your son, by the machinations of Ibrahim Velagic and his friends, was excluded from amongst the warriors who could obtain my hand by fighting for our faith and our country. Sarè, I loved your son; yes, father, I say it aloud and unblushingly, for Hussein was as good as he was handsome, and as brave as he was good. I loved him with all my heart, and he loved me, because the Fates had decreed that we should be man and wife, if we lived. Our faith, therefore, was plighted. We waited, hoping that some happy incident would happen to free me from my impending fate. At last I knew that Ibrahim Velagic had got together the number of heads demanded by my father for my dower, and that to-day he was coming to claim me as his bride. Rather than be the wife of that imposter, felon and murderer, I should have thrown myself in yonder chasm.

"'You are astonished at such language; but, father, how is it that all the warriors aspiring to my hand cannot put together a hundred heads, whilst Velagic alone has three hundred?

"'Well, then, know that those heads are by no means the heads of our enemies; they are rather those of the unhappy beings who of late have been seduced by Nedurè, the witch, into her den, and who after their rash act never saw daylight again. Look at those ghastly heads, and perhaps many of you will find there people that you have known.'

"At these words, stirred to rage at the light of truth which gleamed from Ayesha's eyes, there was such a yelling and hissing, that it seemed as if all the men there had been changed into snakes. They would have thrown themselves on the Dizdar and torn him to pieces there and then, had Ayesha not stopped them.

"'Forbear,' said she, 'and hear me out; wait at least for the proofs I shall give you of his guilt.'

"'Ayesha!' cried out old Sarè, overcome by anguish, 'and my son – where is my son? Is my beautiful boy's head amongst the three hundred?'

"'No; brave Hussein withstood long ago the enticement of the witch, and she has been since then his bitterest enemy.'

"Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief.

"'Hussein was to deliver me from that heinous wretch. Last night we were to flee together. I had the houris to help me, but alas! Ibrahim Velagic had the powers of darkness. It was night, and he won. Hussein yesternight was under my windows, as we had agreed upon. I opened my lattice and lowered him a ladder of ropes, upon which he was climbing joyfully; a moment more he would have reached the windowsill. All at once, an owl screeched, the ropes gave way, and Hussein, my brave Hussein, was dashed down those rocks and into the dreadful chasm. Sarè, my poor Sarè, you have no son. Still, be of good cheer; this morning, when the first rays of the sun were gilding the tops of the Veli-Berdo, I saw the celestial maidens tending him. His mangled body is in the chasm, but his soul is in the blessed abode of peace.'

"'Ayesha,' interrupted the Aga, 'is all this true?'

"The girl beckoned to a slave to approach, and then she took a parcel from his hands.

"'This,' said she, opening it, 'is what remains of the ladder; and you will find Hussein's body in the chasm, smiling in the happy sleep of death. The houris, who have been praying over him the whole day, have covered him with garlands of flowers. Go and dig his grave in the burying-ground, and dig another one by his side.'

"'But,' said Kuna Hassan, 'how did the accident happen?'

"'Nedurè hated Hussein, but she could not harm him, so she apprised Velagic of what was to happen; nay, she did more, she transformed him into the likeness of a rat, and changing herself into an owl, she deposited the Dizdar on the sill of my room, there he came and gnawed at the ropes of the ladder.'

"'This is false,' said the Dizdar. 'Whoever can believe such a story? Why, the girl is mad!'

"'Guards,' said the Aga, with his hand on the haft of his dagger, 'seize Velagic, and mind that you do not let him escape!'

"'Away!' replied the Dizdar. 'A man of my rank can only be judged by the Sultan.'

"'Stop!' cried Ayesha; then, lifting her beautiful arm, naked up to the shoulder, and whiter than the strings of pearls entwined around it, and pointing towards the highway:

"'Do you see there a cloud of dust on the road? Do you see those men coming here? Do you know who they are? You cannot distinguish them, but I can.'

"'Who are they, Ayesha?' cried all the bystanders.

"'The foremost man amongst them, that tall and handsome youth, that looks like Prince George of Cappadocia, is no less a hero. It is Stoyan Jancovic, the man whose back you never saw; the others are but a few of his followers.'

"Then, turning to Velagic: 'Now, craven, utter your last prayer, if you can and if you dare, then prepare to fight; your hour has come.'

"Hearing these words, the Dizdar grew ashy pale; then he began to quake with fear. Such an overpowering dread filled his soul that he seemed to have been smitten with a strong fit of the ague. Still, trying to hide his anxiety:

"'Yes, we shall fight; Allah be thanked, brothers, that this infidel dog is within our reach. Yes, friends, we shall see the power of the Crescent over the Cross.'

"'No; you shall fight alone,' said Ayesha, authoritatively; 'and it is useless to contaminate the name of the All-powerful. As you are already doomed to perdition, call to your aid Sheytan and Nedurè.'

"Ayesha had hardly uttered these words when Stoyan, having made a sign to his companions to keep back, rode boldly up to where the chiefs were standing, and, when a few steps from Ayesha, he curbed his foaming steed, that, unable to brook control, began at once to paw the ground.

"'Maiden,' said he, bowing, 'I am here at thy behest. I have this night had a strange dream. A Vila appeared to me in my sleep, first in the likeness of a nightingale and then in the shape of a dainty, glittering little snake. She told me that for your sake I had to accomplish, this very day, two mighty deeds of justice. The one was to rid this neighbourhood of the evil doings of Nedurè, the powerful witch. This is already done.'

"Thereupon, loosening a silken scarf attached to his saddle, he threw the sorceress's head at the Dizdar's feet.

"'Now,' said he, turning to Velagic, 'you who have been her accomplice – you who brag to have killed three hundred Christians, who, while skulking away like a cur, dare to say that you have been looking everywhere for me, to slay me – here I am.'

"Appalled at the sight of the witch's hideous head, terrified by the hero's words, shaking like an aspen leaf, full of dread and consternation, Velagic looked up at his companions for help; but on their faces he saw nothing but angry scowls, looks of scorn and hatred.

"'Fight,' cried the Aga, 'or a worse death awaits thee, the ignominious death of a murderer and a sorcerer! Fight, coward, fight! for if thou fallest not by that brave man's hand, thou shalt this very day be impaled as a wizard.'

"The Dizdar, seeing that there was no escape, plucked up his courage in his own defence, called the powers of darkness to his help, and unexpectedly rushed upon Stoyan, hoping to catch him off his guard, and to despatch him with a treacherous blow of his scimitar.

"'Fair play! fair play!' shouted the chiefs.

"'The laws of chivalry, gentleman, are not expected to be known by a vile recreant like Ibrahim Velagic,' quoth Stoyan, whose keen eye forthwith saw the stroke, and whose deft hand not only parried it, but dealt his adversary such a mighty blow that it cut off theDizdar's head and sent it rolling on the ground by the side of Nedurè's.

"'And now, beautiful maiden, the task you have enjoined me is done; would to God thou hadst called upon me before.'

"'I thank thee, gentle knight,' said Ayesha, who all the time had been standing on the parapet of the old stone bridge. 'Thou hast avenged my lover's death; may Heaven reward thee for thy deed.'

"'Allah, bismillah!' cried out the chiefs.

"Thereupon Stoyan, bowing courteously, wheeled round his horse and, galloping away, was soon out of sight.

"'And now,' said Ayesha, 'I had sworn to Hussein, that flower of youth and beauty, to be his for ever. Now I shall keep my vow. May the Most Merciful unite me to my lover. God of my fathers, God of Mohamed, receive me amongst the blessed.'

"Thereupon, lifting a small dagger which she held in her hand, she plunged it into her heart, and before her father had time to rush up to her, she had fallen into the torrent underneath, dyeing its waters of a crimson hue, just as the last rays of the sinking sun seemed to tinge in blood the lofty tops of the Veli-Berdo.

"From that day the Bridge of the Two Torrents has ever been called the Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Maiden, and every evening, when the day is fine, the sun sheds a blood-red light on the highest peaks of the Dinara, and the wind that, at gloaming, blows down the dell and through the arches of the bridge, seems to waft back an echo of the last moan of the Aga's beautiful daughter."

CHAPTER VII
SEXAGESIMA

The days that followed the departure of the pobratim were sad ones indeed. The Zwillievics had gone back to Montenegro; then Milena, not having any excuse to remain longer a guest of the Bellacics, was obliged to go back with a sinking heart to her lonely, out-of-the-way cottage; a dreary house which had never been a home to her.

When the Christmas snow had melted away, a sudden strong gale of wind dried up the sods, so that the grass everywhere was withered and scorched; the very rocks themselves looked lean, pinched-up, bare and sharp. All nature had put on a wizened, wolfish, wintry appearance. The weather was not only cold, it was bleak and gloomy.

After a fortnight of a dull, overcast sky, it began to drizzle; everything smelt of mildew; the mouldy turf oozed with moisture, the rotting trees dripped with dampness. The world was decaying. If at times a ray of sunlight pierced the grey clouds, its pale yellow, languid light brought with it neither warmth nor comfort. Evidently the sun was pining away, dying; our bereaved planet was moaning for the loss of his life-giving light.

During all this time the dull sirocco never ceased to blow, either in a low, unending wail, or in louder and more fitful blasts. Usually, as soon as one gust had passed away, a stronger one came rolling down the mountain side, increasing in sound as it drew nearer; then passing, it died away in the distance.

These booming blasts made every mother think of her sailor boy, tossed far away on the raging mountain waves; wives lighted candles to St. Nicholas, for the safety of their husbands; whilst the girls thought of their lovers by day, and at night they dreamt continually of flowers, babies, stagnant waters, white grapes, lice and other such omens of ill-luck.

For poor, forlorn Milena, those days were like the murky morning hours that follow a night of revelry. She was dull, down-hearted, dispirited; nor had she, indeed, anything to cheer her up. In her utter solitude, she spun from the moment she got up to the moment she went to bed; interrupting herself only to eat a crust of bread and some olives, or else to mope listlessly. At times, however, her loneliness, and the utter stillness of her house, oppressed her in such a way that it almost drove her to distraction.

She mused continually over all the events of her life during the last months, after her merry girlhood had come to an end by that hateful and hasty marriage of hers; she recalled to mind that time of misery with her old miserly mother-in-law, who even counted the grains of parched Indian-corn she ate. Still, soon after this old dame's death, came that fated St. John's Eve. It was the first ray of sunlight in the gloom of her married life. It was also the first time she had seen Uros.

She had not fallen in love with him that evening; she had only liked him because he was good-looking and his ways were so winning. Everybody was fond of him, he was so winsome.

Little by little, after that, his presence began to haunt her, his face was always before her eyes. When she woke in the morning, his name was on her lips. Still, that was not love; she even fancied she only liked to teaze him because she was a married woman, a matron, whilst he was but a boy; moreover, he was so shy.

When Radonic came home, she woke to the stern reality of life; she at last found out that she hated her husband and loved Uros, who, though a boy, was, withal, older than herself. That was the time when Radonic's rage being roused by Vranic, he had almost killed Milenko. Then, lastly, shuddering and appalled, she remembered that night when Uros came to sing his farewell song.

She stopped spinning now; the corners of her pretty, childish mouth were drawn down; she hid her face between her hands, whilst the tears trickled slowly through her fingers.

Why had she been so foolishly weak? Now the thought of that night drove her mad. Could she but blot away the past months and begin life anew!

Alas! what was done could never be undone. She rocked herself on her stool in a brown study. What was she to do? What was to become of her?

Radonic would return in a few months; then he would kill her. That, at least, would put a stop to her misery. But the thought of having to live for months in mortal dread was worse than death itself. The maddest thoughts came to her mind. She would leave Budua, dress up as a boy, go off to Cattaro, embark for some distant town. And then?

Far away the people spoke a gibberish she could not understand, and they were heathens, who even ate meat on fast-days. These thoughts, in her loneliness, were almost driving her to distraction, when, unexpectedly, her husband came back home. His ship, in a tempest, had been dashed against a reef, off the shores of Ustica, the westernmost of the Æolian Islands. Not only the vessel, but also the cargo, and even two sailors, were lost.

On seeing her husband appear before her, Milena felt all her blood freeze within her veins. She had disliked Radonic from the very first moment she had cast her eyes upon him; since her marriage her antipathy had increased with his ill-treatment, so that now she positively loathed him.

Still, when the first moment of almost insurmountable dread was over, she heaved a deep sigh of relief. His return was a godsend to her. Had he not just come in time to save her from ignominy? She even mastered herself so far as to make Radonic believe that she was glad to see him, that she was longing for his return, and for a while he believed it. Still, when his mouth was pressed on hers, as he clasped her fondly in his arms, the kiss he gave her now was even worse than the first one she had received from him on her wedding-day. It seemed as if he had seared her lips with burning, cauterising steel. After a day or two, she could not keep up this degrading comedy any longer; her whole being revolted against it in such a way that Radonic himself could not help noticing how obnoxious his presence was to her.

She was, however, glad about one thing. Her husband, having lost his large vessel and all his costly cargo, for he had of late been trading on his own account, would not be able to settle down in Budua, as he had intended doing; then, being now quite poor, people would not be envying her any more. What good had her husband's riches done to her? None at all.

Even in that she was doomed to disappointment. The widow of one of the sailors who had got drowned at Ustica came to beg for a pittance. She had several little children at home clamouring for bread. Milena gave her some flour and some oil, and promised to speak to her husband.

"But," said she, "we, too, are very poor now."

"Poor!" replied the woman. "Why, you are richer now than you ever were."

"How, if we've lost our ship with all its cargo?"

"Yes, but it was insured."

"Insured? What's that?"

"You mustn't ask me, for I'm only a poor ignorant woman. Only they say that when a ship is insured, you get far more money for it than it was ever really worth."

"And who is to give you money for a few planks rotting at the bottom of the sea, or some stray spars washed ashore?" asked Milena, incredulously.

"Who? Ah! that's more than I can tell. Anyhow, I know it's true, for all that."

Milena, astonished, stared at the poor woman. She asked herself whether grief had not muddled the widow's brain. No, she did not look insane.

"Who told you such foolish things, my poor Stosija?" said she, enquiringly, after a while; "for you know very well that you are speaking nonsense."

"It is no nonsense, for the pop himself told me."

Milena's bewilderment increased.

"Moreover, the priest added that insurances are one of the many sacrilegious inventions which lead men to perdition." Then, lowering her voice to a whisper: "They have a pact with Satan."

Milena drew back appalled.

"When a ship is insured the owners care very little what becomes of the precious lives they have on board. The captains themselves get hardened. They do not light any more tapers to St. Nicholas to send them prosperous gales; the priests offer no more prayers for their safety; and, as for silver ex-votos, why, no one thinks of them any more. The pop is so angry that he says, if he had his own way, he'd excommunicate every captain, even every sailor, embarking on an insured ship."

"Mercy on us!" quoth Milena, crossing herself repeatedly.

"In fact, since all these new-fangled, heathenish inventions, you hear of nothing but fires on land and shipwrecks at sea. People once went to bed as soon as it was dark; at eight o'clock every fire and every light was put out. Now, people will soon be turning night into day, as they do in Francezka and Vnetci (Venice), flying thus in the very face of God Himself. Now all the rotten ships are sent to sea, where they founder at the very first storm. It isn't true, perhaps?"

"Aye, it must be true," sighed Milena, "if the pop says so."

"Once fires and shipwrecks were sent as punishments to the wicked, or as trials to the good; now, with the insurances, God Himself has been deprived of His scourge. The wicked prosper, the rich grow richer, and as for the poor – even the Virgin Mary and all the saints turn a deaf ear to them."

Milena shook her head despondingly.

"For instance," continued Stosija, "would the miser's heart ever have been touched, had his barns been insured."

"What miser?" asked Milena.

"Is it possible that you don't know the story of 'Old Nor and the

Miser'?"

"Oh! it's a story," added Milena, disappointed.

"Yes, it's a story, but it's true for all that, for it happened at Grohovo, and my grandfather, who was alive at that time, knew both the miser and the idiot. Well, the miser – who had as much money as his trees had leaves, and that is more than he could count – was one day brewing rakee, when an old man, who lived on the public charity, or in doing odd jobs that could be entrusted to him, stopped at his door.

"'I smell rakee,' said Old Nor" (ninny), "who, by-the-bye, was not quite such an idiot as he was believed to be.

"'Oh, you do!' quoth the miser, sneeringly.

"'Yes,' said Nor, his eyes twinkling and his mouth watering.

"'And I suppose you'd like to taste some?'

"'That I should; will you give me a sip?'

"'Why not?'

"Thereupon the miser dipped a small ladle in a kettle of boiling water and offered it to Old Nor.

"The idiot drank down the hot water without wincing.

"'It's good, isn't it?' asked the rich man.

"'Delicious!' and the old man smacked his lips.

"'It warms the pit of your stomach nicely?'

"'It even burns it.'

"'It's rare stuff, I can tell you; will you have some more?'

"'It's of your own brewing, one can see; I'll have some more.'

"The miser once more dipped the ladle in the hot water and offered it again to the beggar, who quaffed the contents unflinchingly.

"'You see, bad tongues say I'm a miser, but it's all slander; for when I like a fellow, I'd give him the shirt off my back, and I like you, Old Nor. Will you have another ladleful?'

"'Willingly,' and the ninny's eyes flashed.

"Thereupon he again swallowed up the scalding water, but not a muscle of his face twitched.

"'Are you not afraid it'll go to your head, old man?' asked the miser, mischievously.

"'Old Nor's head isn't muddled with so little,' added he, scowling.

"'Then try another cup?'

"'No,' replied the ninny, shaking his head, 'for to-day I've had enough. As soon as the Cesar' (emperor) 'sends me the money he owes me, and I marry the Virgin Mary – for that was his craze – I'll give you something that'll warm the pit of your stomach, too.'

"Then he turned round and went off without any thanks or wishing the blessing of God on the miser's dwelling, as he was wont to do.

"The miser's house was all surrounded by sheds, storehouses and stables; barns groaning under the weight of corn, hay and straw; his sacks were heaped with flour and wheat; his cellars overflowed with wine and oil; in his dairies you could have bathed in milk, for he neither lacked cows, nor sheep, nor goats. Well, not long after the beggar had been scalded with hot water, a fire broke out in his granaries at night, and all the wealth that was stored therein was wasted by fire.

"The miser grieved and lamented, but he soon had masons and bricklayers come from all around, and in a short time they built him finer stables, sheds and stores than the old ones; and after the harvest was gathered, and the aftermath was garnered, and all the outer buildings were filled, with the grace of God, a terrible fire broke out one morning, and before the men could bring any help, for the flames rose fiercely on every side like living springs that have burst their flood-gates, so that the water poured down upon it only scattered the fire far around, and the fine new buildings came crumbling down with a crash, just like houses built upon sand. Then the miser had new masons and bricklayers, and also architects and engineers. Soon they built him stately store-houses of stone and beautiful barns of bricks, higher, vaster and stronger than the former ones. These granaries were like palaces, and a wonder in the land. When the fruits of the field were gathered and the heart of the miser was rejoiced at the sight of so much wealth, then, in the middle of the day, as he was seated at table eating cakes overflowing with honey, and quaffing down bumpers of wine, then the fire broke out in his barns, and, behold, his buildings looked like a dreadful dragon spouting and spurting sparks of fire, and vomiting out volumes of smoke and flames. It was, indeed, a terrible sight.

"The rich man saw at last that the hand of God was weighing upon him, and he felt himself chastened. He cast about for some time, not knowing what to do. So he took a fat calf and two lambs and a kid, and killed them; and he cooked them; and he baked bread; and he invited all his acquaintances, rich and poor, to a feast, where he spared neither wine nor slivovitz; and he did not scald their throats with hot water, but with his own strong rakee. Then, when they had all eaten and were merry, he said to them:

"'The Lord, in His mercy, has scourged me – for whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth – He has given me a warning and a foretaste of what might be awaiting me hereafter. Therefore, I am humbled, and I submit; but if God has chosen any one among you to chastise me, kindly tell me, and I swear, on my soul, on the Cross of our Saviour, Who died for our sins, not only never to harm him, but to forgive him freely.'

"Thereupon Old Nor rose and said:

"'Gospod, it is I who have burnt down your barns. One day I passed by your door and begged you for a draught of the liquor you were brewing; then you offered me scalding water, and when I gulped it down you laughed at me because you thought me witless. Three times did I drink down the fiery water you offered me; three times did I consume with fire all the barns that surround your house. Still, I only made you see, but not taste, fire, for I might have burned you down in your house, like a rat in his hole, and then the pit of your stomach would have been warm indeed; but I did not do so, because I am Old Nor, and the little children jibe and the big children jeer at me, and all laugh and make mouths at me.'

"The rich man bowed down his head, rebuked. Then he stretched out his arms and clasped the beggar to his breast, saying:

"'Brother, you are, after all, a better and a wiser man than I am, for if I was wicked to you, it was only out of sheer wantonness.'

"Then he plied him, not with warm water, but with sparkling wine and strong slivovitz, and sent him home jolly drunk. From that time he mended his ways, gave pence to the poor, presents to the pop, candles and incense to the Church. Therefore, he was beloved by all who knew him, his barns groaned again with the gifts of God, his flocks and his herds increased by His blessings.

"Now, tell me. If the insurance company had paid him for the damage every time his barns had been burnt, would he have been happy with his ill-gotten wealth? No; his heart might have been hardened, and Satan at last have got possession of his soul."

That evening Milena referred to her husband all that Stosija had said to her. Radonic scowled at his wife, and then he grunted:

"The pop– like all priests, in fact – is a drivelling old idiot; so he had better mind his own business, that is, mumble his meaningless prayers, and not meddle with what he doesn't understand."

"What! is there anything a pop doesn't understand?" asked Milena, astonished.

Radonic laughed.

"Oh! he'll soon see something that'll make his jaw fall and his eyes start from their sockets."

"And what's that?"

"A thing which you yourself won't believe in – a ship without masts."

"And what are its sails tied to?"

"It needs no sails; it has only a big chimney, a black funnel, that sends forth clouds of smoke, flames and sparks; then, two tremendous wheels that go about splashing and churning the water into a mass of beautiful spray, with a thundering noise; then, every now and then, it utters a shrill cry that is heard miles away."

"Holy Virgin!" gasped Milena; "but it must be like Svet Gjorgje's dragon!"

"Oh!" sneered Radonic, "St. George's dragon was but a toy to it."

"And where have you seen this monster?"

"It isn't a monster at all; it's a steamer. I saw one on my last voyage. It came from the other side of the world, from that country where the sun at midday looks just like a burnished copper plate."

"Of course," added Milena, nodding, "if it's on the other side of the earth, they can only see the sun after it's set. But where is that place of darkness? Is it Kitay?"

"Oh, no! it's Englezka."

"But to return to what the pop said. Then it's true that you'll get more money for your ship even than what it was worth?"

"Whether I get more or whether I get less, I'm not going to keep all the beggars of the town with the money the insurance company will give me. If sailors don't want their wives to go begging and their brats to starve, they can insure their lives, or not get married. As for Stosija, you can tell her to go to the pop, and not come bothering here; though I doubt whether a priest will even say a prayer for you without the sight of your money. Anyhow, to-morrow I start for Cattaro, where I hope to settle the insurance business."

On the morrow Radonic went off, and Milena heaved a deep sigh of relief; for, although the utter loneliness in which she lived was at times unbearable to her, still it was better than her husband's unkindness.

Alas! no sooner had Radonic started than Vranic came with his odious solicitations, for nothing would discourage that man. In her innocence she could rely on her strength, so she had spurned him from her. She had till then never been afraid of any man. Was she not a Montenegrin? She had, in many a skirmish, not only loaded her father's guns, but also fired at the Turks herself; nor had she ever missed her man. Still, since that fateful night all her courage was gone. Was Vranic not a seer, a man who could peer into his fellow creatures as if they were crystal? Did he not know that she had sinned? He had told her that all her struggles were unavailing; she was like the swallow when the snake fascinates it. She, therefore, had been cowed down to such a degree that she almost felt herself falling into his clutches.

Not knowing what to do, she had gone to Mara, and had confessed part of her troubles to her; she had asked her for help against Vranic. Although Uros' mother did not dabble in witchcraft, still she was a woman with great experience. So she thought for a while, and then she gave Milena a tiny bit of red stuff, and told her to wear it under her left arm-pit; it was the most powerful spell she knew of, and people could not harm her as long as she wore it. She followed Mara's advice; but Vranic was a seer, and such simples were powerless against him.

Radonic came back from Cattaro, and, by his humour, things must have gone on well for him; still, strange to say, he brought no money back with him. He only said he had put his money in a bank, so that he might get interest for it, till such times when he should buy another ship.

"And what is a bank?" asked Milena, astonished.

Radonic shrugged his shoulders, and answered peevishly, that she was too stupid to understand such things. "Montenegrins," he added, "have no banks, nor any money to put in banks; they only know how to fight against the Turks."

For a few days Milena asked all her acquaintances what a bank was, and at last she was informed that it was like insurances, one of those modern inventions made to enrich the rich. Putting money in a bank was like sinking a deep well. After that you were not only supplied for your lifetime, but your children and the children of your children were then provided for; for who can drink the water of a well and dry it up?